Someone was really out to get her.

As Eve sank into a chair in the conference room while Doug handled a quick phone call in his office—no doubt related to the bombshell that had been dropped in the waning moments of her program—she forced her lungs to keep inflating and deflating.

Never in a million years had she expected that unfortunate chapter in her life to see the light of day again. It was ancient history—and none of the parties involved would benefit by rehashing it.

So how had this caller found out about it? And was he the person who’d dropped the fake bomb at her house, as Brent had suggested? Was this a continuation of his campaign to silence her?

None of those questions were her immediate concern, however.

First, she had to tell her story to Doug and Brent—and hope they believed what she had to say.

Then she’d put all her efforts into damage control with her audience.

Brent entered the room first, set her mug on the table, and took the seat beside her. “You okay?” Warmth radiated from his dark brown eyes.

She wrapped her cold fingers around the ceramic, fighting a sudden disconcerting urge to lean into this man and draw strength from his steady presence.

But she wasn’t a leaner. Never had been, never would be. She could hold it together until she was alone.

After that, all bets were off.

“Eve?”

At his gentle prompt, she took a sip of the coffee and carefully set the mug on the table in front of her. “I’ll be fine. I just never expected to have to deal with this. Do you honestly think that call is related to the fake bomb?”

Doug came in on the tail end of her question and slid into the chair across from them. “I’d like to hear the answer to that question too.”

“I think it’s possible. The quality of the voice on the call caught my attention. I suspect the person was using voice-altering software. We can check your 800 carrier’s log for the number, but I wouldn’t be surprised if it came from a burner phone that’s already been disabled and pitched.”

“Does that mean we can’t even find out where it came from?” Eve picked up her coffee again, more to keep her hands busy than because she needed a caffeine boost.

“Not without a specific court order for that number—and since there was no overt threat, that would be difficult to obtain. But my gut tells me it’s related to the bomb incident.”

“If you’re right, that would indicate this guy means business—and may not be willing to quit until Eve does. Not the best news I’ve had today.” Doug rested an elbow on the table and massaged his temple. “So what’s the scoop on this caller’s story, Eve?”